Devils Bride (Cynster 1)

Honoria raised a brow back.

Lips thinning, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. His expression was unreadable-not impassive so much as deliberately uninformative.

"I'm here to apologize."

Honoria met his gaze steadily, certain the word "apologize" rarely passed his lips. Her feelings took flight, only to plummet a second later. Her stomach hollow, her heart in her throat, she asked: "For what?

His quick frown was genuinely puzzled, then it evaporated; his gaze grew hard. "For appropriating Celestine's bill." His tone made it clear that if she wished for an apology for what had transpired in the morning room, she'd be waiting until hell froze.

Honoria's unruly heart sang. She fought to keep a silly-totally unnecessary-smile from her lips. "So you'll give me the bill?"

He studied her eyes, then his lips compressed. "No."

Honoria stared. "Why apologize if you won't give me the bill?"

For a long moment, he looked at her, frustration seeping into his expression. "I'm not apologizing for paying Celestine's account-I am apologizing for stepping on your independent toes-that was not my intention. But as you so rightly pointed out, the only reason such a bill would cross my desk was if you, as my wife, had referred it to me." His lips twisted. "I couldn't resist."

Honoria's jaw nearly dropped; rescuing it in time, she swallowed a gurgle of laughter. "You signed it… pretending to be my husband?" She had to struggle to keep a straight face.

The aggravation in Devil's eyes helped. "Practicing to be your husband."

Abruptly, Honoria sobered. "You needn't practice that particular activity on my account. I'll pay my bills, whether I marry you or not."

Her crisp "or not" hung between them; Devil straightened and inclined his head. "As you wish." His gaze wandered to the landscape above the fireplace.

Honoria narrowed her eyes at his profile. "We have yet to come to terms over this bill you inadvertently paid, Your Grace."

Both description and honorific pricked Devil on the raw. Bracing one arm along the mantelpiece, he trapped Honoria's gaze. "You can't seriously imagine I'll accept recompense-monetary recompense-from you. That, as you well know, is asking too much."

Honoria raised her brows. "I can't see why. If you'd paid a trifling sum for one of your friends, you'd allow them to repay you without fuss."

"The sum is not trifling, you are not 'one of my friends,' and in case it's escaped your notice, I'm not the sort of man to whom a woman can confess to being conscious of owing every stitch she has on, to him, and then expect to be allowed to pay him back."

Honoria's silk chemise suddenly grew hot; tightening her arms over her breasts, she tilted her chin. His conqueror's mask, all hard planes and ironclad determination, warned her she would win no concessions on that front. Searching his eyes, she felt her skin prickle. She scowled. "You… devil!"

His lips twitched.

Honoria took two paces into the room, then whirled and paced back. "The situation is beyond improper-it's outrageous!"

Pushing away from the mantelpiece, Devil raised an arrogant brow. "Ladies who dice with me do find situations tend to end that way."

"I," Honoria declared, swinging to face him and meeting his eyes, "am far too wise to play games with you. We need some agreement over this bill."

Devil eyed her set face, and inwardly cursed. Every time he glimpsed a quick escape from the dilemma his uncharacteristically fanciful self-indulgence had landed him in, she blocked it. And demanded he negotiate. Didn't she realize she was the besieged and h

e the besieger? Evidently not.

From the moment he'd declared his intention to wed her, she'd flung unexpected hurdles in his path. He'd overcome each one and chased her into her castle, to which he'd immediately laid siege. He'd succeeded in harrying her to the point where she was weakening, considering opening her gates and welcoming him in-when she'd stumbled on his moment of weakness and turned it into a blunt weapon. Which she was presently wielding with Anstruther-Wetherby stubbornness. His lips thinned. "Can't you overlook it? No one knows about it other than you and me."

"And Celestine."

"She's not going to alienate a valuable customer."

"Be that as it may-"

"Might I suggest," Devil tersely interpolated, "that, considering the situation between us, you could justifiably set the matter of this bill aside, to be decided after your three months have elapsed? Once you're my duchess, you can justifiably forget it."

"I haven't yet agreed to marry you."